Thursday, May 26, 2016

Living in the vicinity of New York City affords us the opportunity to frequently
travel across bridges traversing the Hudson and EastRivers.
Traveling to the Five Towns entails crossing the George Washington or the Tappan Zee, and then the Whitestone, Throgs Neck, or
Triboro. Going into Brooklyn entails using the Brooklyn or ManhattanBridge,
or possibly one of the tunnels. Staten Island is connected to the world with
the VerrazanoNarrowsBridge, or the (very narrow) Goethals
and BayonneBridges. Every afternoon during my drive
up to New Windsor I pass the beautiful Bear MountainBridge, further up the Hudson River.

As a young child I had a deep fear of
bridges. Whenever I would be in the car and we would drive across a bridge I
would bury my head in my lap until we were off the bridge (and it was not
because of my father’s driving). I always feared that the bridge would collapse,
and the vast water below looked very frightening. [The truth is that if you’re
ever stuck in traffic on a bridge, a slight unnerving sway is somewhat palpable
as cars and trucks breeze by from the opposite traffic.]

As I grew older, I became excited by
bridges. I enjoy their majestic presence and the stunning views as well. As the
construction of the lengthy Tappan
ZeeBridge
progresses not far from our home, we are able to witness the incredible detail
and engineering brilliance necessary for constructing a bridge.

The truth is, as expensive and
challenging as it is to construct a bridge across water, it is far more arduous
and challenging to build bridges between people and nations. What makes people
so fascinating and life so interesting is the fact that we are all unique and
different. But we seem to have a very hard time respecting those differences.

Bridges do not remove the massive abyss
that separates two bodies of land, but rather create specific points of
connection. In a similar vein, sometimes our disagreements with other people or
groups are valid, and we may not have the authority to overlook or forgive those
differences. But we can always focus more on our commonalities than those
differences.

This week we celebrate Lag Baomer. Before
we resume listening to music, shaving, and taking haircuts, it behooves us to
remember why we have been mourning. This period was originally dedicated as one
of joy in anticipation of Kabbolas HaTorah. It was transformed into a time of
mourning and introspection because of the tragic deaths of Rabbi Akiva’s
twenty-four thousand students. The gemara relates that the root cause of their
death was because they did not adequately respect each other. In a sense, they
were unable to construct strong enough bridges between each other.

Think about what life around here would
be like without our bridges. When we are too focused on our points of
contention we cannot focus on our points of connection. The result is isolation
and animosity – the source of our continuing exile.

When a fire is raging it warms and
serves as a source of illumination for everyone who draws near it, no matter
the person’s external appearance and even his internal views. The fires of Lag
Baomer, which contain the flames of spiritual connection, embrace and warm the
souls of every Jew. Lag Baomer is a day when bridges are constructed. It is
therefore a day of tremendous joy, joy which serves as the key to our final
preparation for reaccepting the Torah on Shavuos.

Thursday, May 19, 2016

Last week our five year old daughter
Chayala had corrective surgery on her eyes. [The surgery had nothing to do with
the rock climbing on Chol Hamoed that I wrote about last week.] We arrived at
the hospital at 6:30 am, she was in surgery by 7:30, out of surgery by 9, and
we left the hospital around noon. By that evening she was completely back to
herself, b’h.

For a few hours in between however,
Chayala did not open her eyes because it hurt too much. She wore sunglasses and
held our hands on the way to the car. When we went to a store to pick out a
present for her on the way home, we had to describe the toys for her and ask
her which she wanted. It definitely gave me a renewed appreciation for the gift
of sight and the beracha of “pokeiach ivrim” (giving sight to the
blind).

It reminded me of an experience I had
this past winter, when I was in Eretz Yisroel with our son Shalom. One day, after
visiting cousins in Rechovot we went for a tour of the Ayalon Institute.

During the 1940s when the British
controlled Eretz Yisroel, and immediately afterwards during the War of
Independence in 1948, the Ayalon Institute appeared like a typical kibbutz. Unbeknownst
to the British however, in the underground bowels of the kibbutz was an
ammunition factory for the Palmach, the military division of the Haganah. For
four years the factory produced millions of bullets which were vital for the
efforts of the Israeli resistance, and played an integral role in the outcome
of the war.

One of the machines in the kibbutz’s
laundry room was on a track. Every morning 45 men and women would clandestinely
descend to the hidden area where they worked feverishly, six days a week for
ten hours a day, producing bullets. The noise of the washing machines drowned
out the noise below, and the smell of the detergent masked the smell of the
gunpowder. The workers would take food supplements and there was special
lighting in the room to boost the sheen of their skin so they wouldn’t become
pale from the hours working in the dank underground.

The launderers even washed the uniforms
of the British soldiers nearby. A wire which bypassed the meter of the kibbutz
to avoid detection was connected to the nearby British armybase. The British were
unwittingly funding the electricity for the operation. Talk about
Israeli/Jewish chutzpah!

The fascinating thing about the story is
that it was happening right under the enemy’s nose, yet they knew nothing about
it. The whole story contains an apt analogy for how we view others. We look at
people, size up their situation, and offer our opinions about their lives,
convinced of the veracity of our perspective. The truth is that every person
has compartments of themselves hidden from view, in the basements of their
being. This is true not even of people we don’t know, but often even of people
with whom we feel close and connected. There are always things about which we
are unaware.

A few years ago a fellow teacher related
a simple piece of advice which contains invaluable wisdom: Whenever you look at
someone else’s life, remember that all you are seeing is the tip of the
iceberg. What we see is only the top of the person’s essence, the part that is visible
above the horizon. But beneath the surface is an ocean of depth that we cannot
see.

At the end of the day, judging others is
like making decisions with your eyes closed.

Thursday, May 12, 2016

One of our Chol Hamoed outings this
Pesach was to a place called “High Exposure Rock Climbing.” The facility boasts
numerous forty-foot climbs to the roof of the building, each climb varying in
difficulty and level of challenge. [For those skeptics out there, I climbed one
of the walls. At the top there was a bell, and I made sure the entire room was
aware that I made it to the top.]

It was fun and gratifying to watch each
of our children try the different climbs. [They have a lot of practice climbing
walls in our home.] I particularly enjoyed watching our five year old Chayala.
I was impressed that she was willing to put on the harness and even attempt to
climb at all. The first few times she didn’t get very far up at all, and only a
few feet off the ground her feet slid off the footholds and she was left
hanging from her harness, before descending back to the ground. But that hardly
stopped her from trying again, and again, and again. I loved watching her
determination and persistence which precluded her from focusing on her failure
to get very far the first few times. The truth is that Chayala never did make
it to the top, but no one can accuse her of not giving it her all and climbing
a respectful amount.

On September 12, 1962, President JFK
gave a motivating speech at RiceUniversity in Houston,
Texas, in which he discussed his resolve and
assurance that America
would be the first country to send someone to the moon. He added that it would
be done before the end of the decade. It was a bold statement considering that
at the time, the USA was far
behind the USSR
in the development and accomplishments of its space program. In the end,
President Kennedy’s assertion came true, though he didn’t live to witness it.

During that talk Kennedy noted that he
was well aware of the challenge of trying to fulfill his dream. Yet he was unequivocal: “We choose to go to
the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but
because they are hard… We choose to go because that challenge is one that we
are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we
intend to win.”

Because we are so blessed with material
comfort and convenience, we need to remember that growth and greatness only
come with exertion, persistence, and effort. Discomfort and often pain are par
for the course.

Rock climbing serves as a great analogy
for all worthy accomplishments of life. All of one’s bones may ache and be
crying out for relief, but if he is fueled by motivation and ambition he will obstinately
push onward, pulling himself up with every surge. Part of the euphoric feeling
of reaching the top includes the knowledge that one has pushed himself beyond
your comfort one. Whenever we extend our limitations we feel elated and
encouraged.

We also must remember that the path to
growth includes the knowledge that somewhere along the way you may lose your
footing and slip. But as long as your harness remains firm and you’re able to
pull yourself back onto your path you’ll eventually reach the top.

Thursday, May 5, 2016

A few weeks ago a good friend invited me
and Chani to his home for a meeting he was hosting. He told me that it could be
very beneficial for me, and so we joined.

After the program was presented with
great excitement and encouragement, a woman addressed the assemblage to relate
her personal experience. I must admit that when it comes to these types of programs
I have a hard time following. There were however, some key phrases she used
that resonated with me; quips such as “It’s a no brainer” and “Have your money
do the work for you”.

Even though the program was not for us, I
realized that there was great wisdom to be gleaned from the idea of ‘having
your money work for you’, as I will now explain.

A number of years ago, after spending Pesach
in Lakewood, NJ at the home of my in-laws, we lingered
there for a day or two of Chol Hamoed. My in-law’s neighbor and dear friend,
Rabbi Eli Oelbaum, invited me and Shalom (then 9 years old), to join us at a
Chol Hamoed learning program he initiated at a local shul. It was cleverly
called “Greater Adventure”.

We accepted the invitation and were very
moved by the program. There was a packed Bais Medrash full of young men, some
with fathers and grandfathers, and many with chavrusos, learning with gusto for
the better part of an hour. That was followed by brief divrei chizuk (words of
encouragement) by a distinguished rabbinic personality, which was followed with
a daily grand raffle, with numerous exciting prizes raffled off every day. After
that first time, we almost always made it our business to be in Lakewood for some part of
Chol Hamoed so we could join the program.

This year, with the encouragement and
guidance of my rebbe, Rabbi Schabes, as well as all the local rabbonim of our
community and a few generous donors, we were able to initiate a similar
learning program here in New Hempstead. It was truly gratifying to see over 50
boys learning Torah on a Chol Hamoed morning with fathers and grandfathers.
More than one father expressed to me the same sentiment that I had conveyed to
Rabbi Oelbaum after the first time we attended his program a few years ago: “It
was so special! It really transformed our Chol Hamoed!”

I thought about what a great zechus the
program was, not only for our community but for Rabbi Oelbaum. The words that
woman had uttered regarding that financial program are surely true in regards
to spiritual matters: “It’s a no brainer!” “Have your mitzvah do the work for
you”…

What a wonderful idea! Just do something great and you never know who
will be inspired to follow your lead. And if they inspire someone else, who
knows what kind of merits it can generate for you and for so many others. It’s
truly a Greater Adventure!